


Disclosure

by Anonymous



Category: Saath Nibhana Saathiya
Genre: Age Difference, Backstory, Evil Plans, F/M, Family Secrets, Marriage of Convenience
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-26
Updated: 2016-01-24
Packaged: 2018-05-15 22:52:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5803450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Meera refuses to be anybody's sautan. Dharam explains why she isn't anyway.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Originally published at india-forums.com under the username -mina-. No copyright infringement intended.

Meera stormed into her bedroom, agitated by the awful revelations she'd just heard downstairs. 

" _Sautan!_ How dare they!" Restlessly she walked up to the vanity mirror, leaning with her palms against the edge of the vanity. The sharp pressure of the worn wood helped suppress her need to punch something...anything.

She looked at her reflection, and all the _suhaagan ki nishaani_ she'd so carefully adorned herself with seemed to be mocking her. Sindoor, mangal sutra, a crisp red sari for a new bride...what a joke. All of it was a sham, and she looked like a fool.

Unable to bear the sight of her own face any longer, she looked down at the vanity counter. It was strewn with her own cosmetics, including the crystal kumkum pot Dharamji - _dhokebaaz Dharamji!_ had used at their wedding. 

But for the first time, she noticed that there was a bangle stand there too. A cheap, wooden stand with plain whittled pegs and a squat base. It was full of simple glass bangles in rainbow colours, the kind she'd seen her Maa and Pari Kaki wear around Modi house to fill in the gaps between bolder gold showpieces.

Meera knew that the bangle stand did not belong to her. Picking off one bangle to inspect, she saw that it was way too wide to be worn on her wrist.

Which could only mean...

"Unbelievable!" She tossed the bangle down in disgust, and stared at the rack broodingly. Then, too frustrated to contain herself, she picked it up and turned around to throw it across the room -

\- only to come face to face with Dharamji, who had somehow entered without her noticing.

"Eyy, chokri. No one gave you a license to throw missiles in this house." He plucked the bangle stand from her hand and set it back on the vanity, though a few bangles still clattered to the ground at the sudden motion. 

Meera crossed her arms in annoyance and glared at him. "Don't worry, I'm not staying in this house any longer!" she declared. "I just came up to pack."

That was a lie, but she decided then and there that she might as well make it true. What was the point of staying on when the whole plan was derailed by the arrival of Vidya's real saas? Her status in this house was less than nothing now, and there was no chance of achieving the goals she'd come here for. 

With that in mind, she started to walk toward the closet, thinking that at least it wouldn't take long to get her things together because she'd hardly had time to unpack.

But before she could take two steps, Dharamji grabbed her arm and spun her around to face him.

"Let go of me!" she instantly demanded. She tugged at his fingers with her free hand, but he only tightened his grip. Then he stepped close, backing her right against the vanity so she couldn't move.

"You're not going anywhere, madam. We had a deal, and you have to keep your part." His hands settled onto the vanity counter, brushing against her hips. 

"The deal is off since you and your precious mother lied to me," Meera snapped. "Meera Modi comes second to no one. I'm not staying in this house as a _sautan_."

"Baa says one little word and you react like this? You have a lot to learn about being part of this family, chokri. Did you forget our theatre background? You have to play your part in our dramas as well now."

"What are you talking about?" Meera said impatiently. "And I'm not part of this family, I was only here as a plan -"

"You're my wife. Did you forget we did that, the whole ceremony, every ritual? That part wasn't acting. You were there for that."

"How should I know! How should I know what's real and what's pretend with you people? And how can I be your wife, when she's standing downstairs clinging to your son!"

"He's - not my son!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hindi glossary
> 
> Sautan: second wife, co-wife, "the other woman"  
> Suhaagan ki nishaani: symbols of wifehood including sindoor (vermilion applied to hair parting) and mangal sutra (sacred nuptial necklace)  
> Dhokebaaz: liar, cheat, deceitful person  
> Kaki: aunt (father's brother's wife; Gujarati)  
> Chokri: girl, lass  
> Saas: mother-in-law  
> Baa: mom (Gujarati)


	2. Chapter 2

Dharam watched in fascination as Meera's eyes widened. They were already so entrancingly large, who knew surprise could actually somehow make them bigger? Her pert little mouth dropped open too, her lush lips parted though she was evidently speechless.

Annoyed at his reaction to her, Dharam stepped back to make some space between them. He ran a hand through his hair and tried to think of some way to backtrack from what he'd just said. It was a truth he'd spent two decades hiding, a truth he'd never meant to disclose to this girl of all people. But there was something about Meera Modi - Meera _Suryavanshi_ \- that kept defeating his habitual self-control, and an uneasy whisper at the back of his mind was taunting him that this was only the beginning...

"W-what did you say?" Meera finally managed to demand. When he met her gaze, Dharam was intrigued to see the light of speculation in her eyes.

For all that she made foolish choices, there was no denying that his fiery new wife did have a keen intelligence. What would she make of the facts he was now bound to tell her? Dharam could only hope that what he was about to share wouldn't mess up his mother's careful plan, since Meera's cooperation was key to its success.

Dharam took Meera's wrist and tugged her away from the vanity. "Sit down, chokri," he said, spinning her gently in the direction of the bed.

He turned so that he could lean against the vanity himself. He crossed his arms and waited for her to settle herself on the edge of the mattress. She clearly wasn't used to wearing saris, as she had to adjust the aanchal several times before she could finally sit comfortably.

"Well?" she asked expectantly, tilting up her pointed chin in that proud way she must have learned from her arrogant father. Funny, it looked nothing but infuriating on Ahem, but on Meera somehow it looked almost...adorable. "Why did you say Shravan is not your son?"

Dharam sighed. So the time had come at last. An uncomfortable tension thrummed along his veins, but there was nothing for it but to give her the real explanation. They couldn't afford to have her leaving the house when they needed her for their plan, and once she knew the truth she wouldn't have a reason to leave. "Because...he isn't my son," Dharam said, deciding to start from where she'd asked.

Meera opened her mouth to say something - no doubt to demand further details - but Dharam continued before she could speak. "He's my nephew. My brother's son. Durga is my brother's widow. But when he died, she sort of...well, she lost her mental balance, basically."

Meera frowned, her forehead creasing as she took in this information. "So she thinks you're her husband? She thinks you're...your dead brother?" She stumbled on the last words, apparently realizing after the fact how insensitive she sounded.

For his part, Dharam didn't care about the wording. It had all happened so long ago, he wasn't bothered by it anymore. Now the whole mess was just a part of his life, so he hadn't even realized that he was oversimplifying things. "No. She knows I'm me. But she doesn't remember my brother, and thinks that she was always married to me. I didn't want to deal with her when it happened and Baa said we didn't need her anymore, so we sent her away. But we had to keep Shravan, because he's our blood, you know?"

"You separated a mother and child," Meera said flatly. Disapproval coloured her tone, which Dharam found surprising. Why would a girl who hated her own mother have such a strong reaction to that part of the story?

Dharam shrugged. "She wasn't fit to be a mother, at that time. So we kept Shravan with us, and Baa raised him. We told him that I'm his father so that he wouldn't have questions growing up."

"But now he hates you," Meera pointed out. "Did you even try to be a good father? If you were going to lie to him at least you could have done that."

Now she was lecturing him? It was on the tip of Dharam's tongue to snap back that she shouldn't comment on what didn't involve her. But then he remembered that he needed her to cooperate, and anyway her thoughts on his family history didn't matter. What mattered was what lay ahead, and so he steered the conversation to present matters. "Do you understand now? He's not my son, she's not my wife, and you are _not_ anyone's sautan."

Her head snapped up, her gaze flying to his. Their eyes locked. Dharam found that he couldn't look away from Meera, some wordless connection holding him in thrall.

But finally she stood up, breaking the moment. A slow smile spread on her face, dimples appearing in each of her cheeks. "Right. I guess that means I'm just...your wife."

Dharam watched warily as Meera walked towards him. He was glad that she was accepting her role, but why was she suddenly so happy? And...what might she be expecting from him?

He hastily stepped out of her way as reached the vanity, worried for a second that maybe she wanted to...touch him. But the unexpected moment of anxiety was completely unnecessary, as she proceeded to ignore him while she tidied up her appearance in front of the mirror. She straightened her sari, combed back her hair, and even refreshed her sindoor.

Then she turned to face him, one eyebrow raised and one hand settled on her hip. "So then, what's the plan...husband?"

As Dharam met her expectant eyes, he felt a smile lighten his own face. It felt like the beginning of a beautiful partnership. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes that last line is a slight homage to Casablanca!


End file.
